Leaving Sunshine
by Durp
Summary: Death can mean a shift in worlds. Some are better than the last, some are worst. The ones that involve magical ninjas are terrible for everyone involved. OC Self-insert set in Silver Queen's Dreaming of Sunshine Universe. DISCONTINUED, REWRITTEN IN SUPERNOVA SANGSARA
1. Prologue

**Leaving Sunshine**

**Summary:** Death can mean a shift in worlds. Some are better than the last, some are worst. The ones that involve magical ninjas are terrible for everyone involved. OC Self-insert set in Silver Queen's Dreaming of Sunshine Universe.

******Author's Notes:** Yeah, you read summary right. This is a fan-fanfiction. What a world we live in. Big props to Silver Queen for being okay with this! If you don't know about it already, read Dreaming of Sunshine for a much better fanfic.

**Prologue**

* * *

So I'd discovered what happened after death. Wasn't really my aim to, but it was still an incredible discovery. I'd maybe even land a spot on Conan if I was lucky. That'd be difficult though, considering I was in an entirely different universe.

My name was Colin, but is now Rin Kazama. If you'd care to listen, I have a story to tell.

It's nothing quite as lame a legal name change to fuel a destructive fascination with Japanese culture. It's because I couldn't quite claim to be someone dead in a motel some few realities away.

Sure I was an orphan, so my background is a bit tentative, but that's somewhat of a stretch. The orphans at my old Orphan Block will say that Rin Kazama was that odd girl who wanted to become a ninja, and not a 19 year old college drop out. They'd also probably call you a weirdo and ostracize you for asking such strange things, but they always were a bit judgmental.

I'd like to say I was reincarnated, and I wasn't just conjuring up an entire world with a literal planet's worth of new personalities and faces. First of all, the brain can't actually come up with _new_ faces or personalities. In dreams they're a mix and match of ones you've already seen. Secondly, if I was, I wish I'd figured out I could do that _sooner. _I could've made a buttload of money off some sort of series of novels or something. Would've probably even avoided my death entirely! But this world feels real enough, and a dead man doesn't lose much in indulging in a second chance to live, real or not.

The particularly odd thing about this world I reborn into though, was that I'd read about it and watched it on my computer in my previous life's childhood.

I was reborn into the Naruto-universe.

I was _pretty_ pissed off at that revelation. I only had recently before my death somewhat gotten back into the series, and had forgotten most of the fine details since I was a kid. Jeez, aren't most of those self-insert fanfics usually in universes the author has a _competent_ understanding of? How could I romance my favorite characters and defeat all the villains like I was taking an afternoon stroll _now_? Though I suppose that somewhat fits with that Hindu karma reincarnation thing. How much bad karma do you need to get "reborn in the universe of show you forgot about"?

I wasn't sure what atrocities I'd committed that warranted experiencing being _literally born._ It'd remove the concept of nostalgia entirely if everyone could remember that oh so _wondrous_ journey. I'd thought the afterlife was a dark, warm, and comforting tenuous consciousness at first, but then some jerk pulled me out of that sweet gig into bright, cold, and harsh reality. The person did a dreadful job with the umbilical cord too! I was an outie now. Gross.

When I was yanked out I'd cried out initially out of fear and confusion but slipped back into silence. That had always been my response to negative stimuli and situations in the past, so I wouldn't be a bother to others. I had that behavior so hardened and practiced it was easy to slip back into old habits.

I was generally a quiet baby because of that, and I'm sure I terrified my birth parents. Babies usually cry because of a situation their extremely underdeveloped anatomy is literally incapable of doing itself. Like needing to be burped or hunger. They've had a fairly successful survival rate because of it. But I was steadfast in my silence, not crying in hunger until I couldn't bare it, oddly complacent with dirty diapers (even I'm surprised at my resilience looking back), and not even fretting about this alien energy that I later learned was Chakra; appearing and waging battles as its Coils formed inside of my growing body.

A silent baby gave way to dread rather than the typical sleep-depriving irritation. It usually means something is wrong.

There was enough wrong with me, I suppose, that I was abandoned. I couldn't discern an accurate reason, as my senses developed closely to the time I was left to the orphanage, and my understanding of Japanese was miniscule as well. Maybe it was the fact that I was a strenuous responsibility my birth parents weren't ready for, maybe there were a wide selection of factors that all spelt 'Grade-A messed up home'. In any case I could at least tell there were many very intense emotions in my former household. There was lots of shouting, crying, the breaking of glasses every now and again. When I could finally open my eyes, the first thing I saw in this body was my birth mother's gaunt, sobbing face.

I wished I could've gone back to the darkness.

One day after the biggest shouting contest yet, when all I could hear were crickets, my mother bundled me up and left with me in tow. My first view of the outside world was under the dark of night, I could make out the shape of branches and leaves, but that wasn't my main concern at the moment. Who the _hell_ takes their babies out for midnight strolls? Was I a _vampire baby_? And why did my birth mother's face look so resigned, so absent of hope? It was going to be Stormageddon if I was getting ditched at an orphanage.

We had eventually passed some sort of gate, and I began to glance around at the white buildings with colored tile roofs. The architecture I could only nebulously say at the time was similar to that of a village of an anime I'd seen. I was likely from some sort of neighboring village or community, maybe even some shack in the woods. Not like I could ever confirm that, I was always poor with directions in my previous life. Having developing baby senses didn't help much either.

My birth mother arrived at the steps of a building, and I noticed by the reflective gleam beneath her eyes that she was silently crying. Damn it, she was really making it hard to demonize her! My resolve for plan Stormageddon was slipping.

She slipped a piece of paper from onto the cloth that wrapped me, placed at the door steps, knocked loudly, and was gone. I would later find out she had written the name given to me in this world: Rin Kazama. This likely wasn't my real name. I never recalled that name ever being said by either of my birth parents.

She clearly didn't want me to carry on my genetic legacy. Maybe she did it so I wouldn't have to bear whatever consequences that would entail. Maybe she didn't want to be associated with me, I might have been accidental. It was kind of her to give me a last name as well, as later I'd find out that names like Tenten without last names made it blatantly clear you were an orphan. I'd discovered there were Kazama families, but none in this village.

Regardless, I was given a clean slate. I'm pretty grateful. No baggage. No responsibilities to family, or traditions to uphold. I'd pleasantly find out the housing situation for orphans wasn't that bad either in this village. I could've dodged a bullet via a toxic family life.

I was going to try and take this opportunity to heart. Not be held down by the shackles of my mistakes of my past life, hell, try to be _something I never was_. Bold! Courageous! Strong! Shonen protagonist-y! I'd already seen the results of the alternative, and now was a good chance as any to see what life would have in store for me if I was a different man! Like a second playthrough of a video game!

To kick start off the obliteration of Tabula rasa, my blank slate, I was going to cry my baby ass off! When I thought I _might_ be peckish, when my diaper just doesn't _feel_ as nice as the last one, when an incredibly ugly person tried to touch me! Well, I wasn't going to be a huge jerk my _whole_ life, but being a baby was the complete free pass to be one. I was going to be seizing my days, as a baby though, there weren't many other opportunities to seize.

I was living up the baby life like this in the orphanage. One night, after a day of successfully crying and drooling over all those caretakers who would dare try and get near my suspiciously awesome shuriken rattle(it wasn't sharp or pointy, and it was somewhat colorful, but wasn't it a bit heavy metal for no-year-olds?), an adult, who I'd _felt_ but not seen or heard, entered the room and began talking to my caretakers.

After some light and amiable conversation I was taken out, and handed to the stranger. Alright, I was seeing what their game was. Trying to get me adopted were they? My caretakers should've known better than to underestimate me by now. This called for the crocodiliest of tears. I called this tantrum the: 'Guess-What's-Wrong-With-Me'! Without fail, I would always see whoever held me go through all five stages of grief.

The man chuckled softly to himself in response to my carefully calculated crying for maximum grief yield. That was a new one, usually I could at least see _internal_ agony.

He began to gently rock me back and forth, and something similar to the energy I'd been feeling all around and inside me(but generally ignoring), slid into my system. It washed over me, feeling cold, yet strong and reliable. Like a parental or adult figure or something. It made me halt the waterworks. Who _was _this smooth mac daddy, and what voodoo spell had he cast on me?

I turned my gaze upwards to the man. He was wearing a mostly blue outfit, complimented with some sort of green, vest, jacket thing. What was striking about this guy wasn't his forgettable face, but the blinding piece of metal on his forehead. Upon closer inspection it was… the headband ninjas wore in Naruto.

Everyone was holding him in a high regard. Not giggling at this cosplayer at an orphanage.

That ambient energy I'd felt everywhere, and what that weirdo injected me with, was probably Chakra.

This was the Naruto-universe.

Oh,_ god damn it!_


	2. Chapter 1

**Leaving Sunshine**

**Summary:** Death can mean a shift in worlds. Some are better than the last, some are worst. The ones that involve magical ninjas are terrible for everyone involved. OC Self-insert set in Silver Queen's Dreaming of Sunshine Universe.

**Chapter 1**

* * *

This was the Naruto-universe.

I fumed silently over the new revelation. Really would've preferred the Pokémon-universe.

What did I remember about the Naruto-universe? It was a fighting manga franchise based off of basically magical ninjas who performed their dark arts with chakra. I only remembered up to Tsunade becoming Hokage in the original Naruto, and sparse, unconnected plot points in Shippuden. Plot details may not even be relevant though, as I had no idea where I was in this world's timeline.

I said I had gotten back into Naruto before my death. That may be too strong a claim. It was essentially just playing the new video games, watching some clips on YouTube, and watching Rock Lee and His Ninja Pals. Not sure how advantageous Rock Lee and Tenten's manzai comedy was going to be against giant snake people, or whatever the antagonists were.

Wait, if I was in the Naruto-universe that meant…

_No video games_. _No T.V. No internet._ Alright _screw_ this reincarnation. I wanted a do-over!

Then I felt It. I was really lucky the old man's chakra was there, it acted as a buffer from the full force of It. A foreign energy crashed over my senses, invading my sensory organs by the sheer _magnitude_ of it.

The two energies, invasive as they were, were like two very fundamentally different burglars. The old man's chakra quietly snuck in through my back door. This Chakra broke my front door and blasted apart all my windows simply by _being there._ It was basically the antithesis of all good feelings. It was a poisonous pain that enveloped every fiber of my being.

This warranted crying. By god it _hurt._ The other babies joined in a cacophony of wails. The old man's parental aura became that of a soldier's in an instant. He handed me back to my caretakers and immediately left in a blur. Sounds of destruction rang out.

What the _hell_ was going on? Some kind of monster attack or invasion? I'd felt signatures of, what I was assuming people's chakra, being snuffed out in the distance.

Whatever it was, it solidified my position on becoming a ninja.

This was a fighting manga. There wasn't a reason for me to let that horrible, painful power that assaulted me scare me. No matter how terrifying or strong the threat, you could probably punch it in the face if you had enough ridiculous magic powers or training. And I'd done plenty of running in my previous life. I was going to deck my problems in the schnoz now.

Since I had nothing better to do, and because the discovery I was in an extraordinary reality made the idea of spending my time pranking adults sound trite, I decided to train. Since at this point a light fall could probably break my spine, I decided on messing around with this chakra stuff. I mean, I probably should have tried to learn the language more, but chakra was _an energy force from another universe_. That was _awesome_.

I may not have been a huge fan of Naruto, but that didn't mean I wasn't still a huge nerd. My interest shifted from Anime and Manga to Video Games and Live-action shows.

I had become an avid fan of fighting games and their oddly almost universal concept of chi. The idea that one could simply train hard enough to manifest their life energy into general superhuman feats, like punching an island asunder, or chucking plasma via Hadoukens really resonated with me. I was honestly a bit excited to actually be able to mess around with chakra, as it was vaguely similar.

In my crib, at night when no adults were around, I tried to concentrate and channel chakra into my tiny baby hand. Time came to a crawl, my eyes began to bulge, and my nonexistent muscles began to tense.

I was just squeezing my hand real hard.

I suppose I shouldn't feel too bad about that. I was sure there wasn't a social stigma against babies not being good ninja wizards. I also had no idea what I was doing.

Well then, I'd try and figure this whole chakra stuff out the way I've always solved my problems. Not through intelligent analysis or clever planning, but brute force. Try every conceivable way until it works!

Every night I would try new things, and every night I would continue to be unimpressed. But bit by bit my hand felt warmer, and warmer. I'd felt like I had an intangible, all-encompassing muscle that would keep growing bigger and bigger.

Finally, one day, there was an unmistakably bright, thin, blue-white aura coating my hand.

I let out a loud, baby giggle in pure jubilation. By Kishimoto's holy ghost I'd _earned_ super powers! I was like the Immortal Iron Fist (or Batman, if you wanted a more mainstream, less accurate simile)! No radioactive animal bites or innate genius intellect (well, relatively speaking, adult mind and all), I'd gained strength through sheer work and willpower!

My brain quickly ran through things I could do with this new-found power. I remembered that in the Naruto-universe, one could use their chakra to stick to surfaces, even walk on water. That seemed to be a good start as any. I tried sticking myself to the wooden bars of my crib and my sheets.

...and nothing happened. In frustration I pressed against the surfaces with more force. I yelped and yanked back my hand in terror as the crib began to slightly tip in response.

Huh. At least I figured out how to use chakra to hit stuff real good.

What was I doing wrong? Did I need to do those lame hand signs? I examined my glowing hand. Trying to sense the same chakra I felt other people had I got… nothing, strangely. Were you unable to sense your own chakra like you were unable to smell your normal scent? Maybe, but you could use your own eyes to see yourself so you might be able to sense yourself.

I could definitely make out I had _some_ sort of chakra signature myself; I didn't get any feelings from it though like I did from that old man and everyone else. I didn't feel there was a concentration of chakra in my hand, even though I could blatantly see it. Ugh, was I going to have to wait until I entered that Ninja Academy to get taught about chakra to find out what was going on?

Regardless I continued to practice this way. Even though I was sure I was doing something wrong, that invisible muscle I was exercising to make this Not Chakra slowly but surely got stronger. For now I'd assume it was my chakra pool, or whatever. When I learned to actually make chakra properly I'd probably have a sizable amount of it to play with.

* * *

By the time I was four months old I could walk. By the time I was three, I begrudgingly admitted to myself I barely understood Japanese.

I could say it was because I was so focused on my training I didn't have time for the lame and boring things like _literacy_ and being _comprehensible_, but that'd be a half-truth to save face. I only trained in secrecy at night; I had plenty of time during the day to do whatever.

Honestly I was a bit terrified. Not of the learning, but the social interaction. I kinda felt shameful and stupid for being talked down to about something like really simple sentences. Whenever I'd feel uneasy about my language skills I'd just think of new spins and methods on my training. Funny, how the most obnoxious baby was now the quietest child.

On my third birthday though, when the only things I understood were "Happy Birthday Rin" and "Shinji stop crying" (that dork was a huge crybaby); I finally recognized that notion as ridiculous.

As the celebration of my third birthday was wrapping up I walked over to the small shelves with the children's books, grabbed a picture book, punched the butt of one of the shorter caretakers to get their attention, and shoved it in their face (as much as my height allowed).

The female caretaker turned and laughingly questioned for the identity of her assailant. Noting the book, she smiled warmly, took me by the hand to a table, and read to me.

* * *

"The three of us are going to the Academy Rin. We know you're all crazy about being a ninja, so try and _stay away_ from us. You're so _weird_. You'll make us look bad." Ami, I recognized, head brat of the Bratty Bitch Trio, said to me.

"I barely even talk. And besides, if I'm so weird, wouldn't I just make you all look a lot cooler and prettier in comparison?" I replied, not looking up from my novel. The monster man had just ripped off the protagonist's fiancé's arms with a sick bloodline jutsu and beat her to death with them, it was pretty rad.

Kasumi and Fuki, the other members of the Bratty Bitch Trio, murmured amongst themselves, considering what I said. Reaching some sort of conclusion they looked to Ami and gave a nod.

"Even though you're _obviously_ just thinking of excuses to stick with us, I guess we'll see if what you said is true." With that, the trio walked off.

I sighed to myself, something I noticed I did every time I communicated with the three. This was _no way_ the social group I intended on associating with. It's just… what else was I supposed to do?

I was a girl now, so they accepted me on that alone. I couldn't talk to _normal people _in my past life, let alone _kids_! With no video games, kids shows, or Pokemon in this world I was at a loss of whatever the hell kids were interested in. Plus the three almost never partook in the physical games I'd long grown tired of, so I could sit around with them and quietly do whatever. Those are all terrible justifications but… ugh, being social is really not my forté.

They weren't _completely_ irreprehensible monsters though; they were just… incredibly abrasive young girls. Doing what young kids did: classifying everything into groups. Having kinda accepted me into theirs, they helped me pick out clothes, which was rather helpful to one as fashion-blind as me.

They insisted on shoulder length hair, which I complied to, but kept in a single pigtail in the back so it wasn't in the way. Whenever they'd pick out a nice but blandly colored outfit for me, so I'd be less noticeable than them, I'd get it in bright red to spite them.

At any rate, the three were definitely going to get what was coming for them at the Academy, just like in all those High School movies. What was the ninja world equivalent of being covered in paint at prom, or hit by a bus?

Noting the time from the clock, I closed my book and got up from the playground steps. Today was the day us orphans decided our future.

When the kids at the orphanage were five, we had to make the decision what school we went to. I was six, barely scraping into this year's pool. If we went to the Ninja Academy we'd get our own digs, kind of apartment deals near the academy. Kids who didn't would just move to another part of the orphanage that accommodated older children better. What scared off kids from this apparent no-brainer were the stories.

When you lived in a village that specialized in ninjas, it was pretty easy to terrify the young. If one man could terrify the criminals of Gotham City, an army of Batmen could definitely scare stupid kids trying to get free digs.

Because you lived so close to the Academy the 'teaching' didn't stop outside of the class room. It was pure hell for five year olds. Have you ever had to do disarming maneuvers against attackers midst shampoo? Defend against genjutsu monsters under your bed? Disarm traps around your silverware? Catch fake kunai with your teeth as it shoots out of your soup?!

It was kind of absurd surviving that torture did nothing to boost one's grades; you weren't penalized for failing. It was a test of conviction, a ninja trial by fire. The 'consistent-advanced-character-and-aptitude-testin g-that-isn't-hazing-at-all-kids-don't-even-know-wh at-that-means-shh' usually stopped after a year or so. That was usually when all the freeloaders dropped out.

There was no way _that_ was going to stop me though. Not even an Academy consisting of a clone army of the Bratty Bitch Trio! Okay, maybe that would, but nothing else could stop my dream of doing cool stuff with my ninja powers!

Kaoru, the woman who taught me how to read, was at the desk where you turned in your forms for sign-up. She gave me a familiar warm smile; she was a rather pretty woman in her mid-twenties.

"Hello, Rin-chan. I'm guessing by the fact you're turning your form in so early you're going to the Academy?"

"I couldn't live with myself if I didn't, Kaoru-san." I firmly answered as I handed her my form. This was after all an opportunity that didn't _exist_ in my lifetime.

Her smile whilst still warm took on a resigned quality. "We've already talked about this at length before. Good luck. Remember though that you can quit whenever you want, so don't feel like you have to become a ninja no matter what when you get to the Academy."

I appreciated her respecting my decision, even offering future emotional support if I decided to quit. She felt I was too kind and adverse to conflict to be a ninja, a soldier. Honestly she wasn't too off the mark. Kaoru was the only person I really opened up to, felt comfortable with sharing. I really did hate people fighting with one another, and it was nigh impossible for me to hold a grudge or honestly hate anyone. It just didn't seem logical to me.

But hey, maybe the world needed more ninja like that.

"Ah, also! Remember that if you ever need help, food, someone to talk to, anything, I'll always be there for you."

"Not sure about needing someone to talk to, but I'll definitely think about raiding your fridge. I'm very grateful for everything, Kaoru-san."

I truly was.

* * *

I was at an introduction ceremony for a _NINJA _Academy.

I could easily contain my excitement. I had just kind of gracefully accepted that this was real, and I'd eventually be pretty awesome.

There were also a lot of children here, I couldn't express _too_ much how much of a giddy dork I was inside. I regained my composure and remembered to scan and try and spot out any familiar faces in the crowd. The Third Hokage was there talking about learning and friendship and something called the 'Will of Fire', so I might be in the right time frame for what little I remembered about the Naruto storyline to be useful.

After two teachers had called out their class list, I was incredibly anxious about the fact that even if I was at the right place in the timeline, I might not even be in the class I had any knowledge about. I was biting the inside of my mouth in anticipation by the time the guy with the scar across the bridge of his nose came up.

"Right. With me are: Aburame, Shino…" That sounded familiar. Was that the dog face or the bug guy? The child who walked up to wait with the teacher was looking like a mini-drug dealer, with the shades and mostly obscured face. Hell yeah, it _was_ bug face! I had not useless future knowledge! Now I only had to hope I could get into this class with all the relevant characters.

"… Inuzuka, Kiba, Kazama, Rin…"

I was so happy I could've energetically and awkwardly flailed around and called it dancing, ruining my reputation for the next few decades. I only displayed a faint smile to demonstrate my feelings as I walked up to where the others were waiting, and was content to bask as horrible-sneezing-accident read off the rest of the names.

One name he said made me pause.

Huh. The smart kid who controlled shadows, Shikamaru, had a last name. I never recalled that.

He also had a twin sister: Shikako.

I _definitely_ didn't recall that.


	3. Chapter 2

**Leaving Sunshine**

**Summary:** Death can mean a shift in worlds. Some are better than the last, some are worst. The ones that involve magical ninjas are terrible for everyone involved. OC Self-insert set in Silver Queen's Dreaming of Sunshine Universe.

**Author's Notes:** I noticed that upon re-reading DoS, Ami isn't an orphan. Bluh. I'm okay with it though since Ami has been in about 3 panels in the manga total, and basically a blank slate otherwise. I'll try not to goof in the future though. Also, thanks for all your kind words in the reviews! They really help fuel my passion for this fic.

Ka – Yeah, the second exam of the Chuunin exams is going to be a pretty terrible time for Rin. Good job picking up on that.

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Thank god being stealthy didn't seem to be as vitally crucial criteria for ninjas, as it was for ninjas in my world that didn't have magic powers. I honestly might as well have been shouting "I'M INTERESTED IN YOU".

I had decided to investigate this Shikako chick in class. That had entailed trying to examine her during class, which might've not been as bad if I weren't at the middle of the class and she was in the back row with a slumbering Shikamaru. There was no reason for me to be staring back there.

And I was anyway.

Was she… always there? Was she introduced in some sort of spin-off movie or game? Had she been introduced in a filler episode or something? I mean, I didn't even know what Shikamaru's parents looked like; it'd be safe to say I didn't know his family at all. I suppose she could've just been a minor character that hadn't been relevant.

Hell, this could've just been the Naruto-universe with minor variations on it like a few new characters; I had no facts to suggest otherwise. I also still had no idea how or why I was reincarnated here. I mean, I was grateful, but that doesn't mean I wasn't curious. At some point in the future I'd have to investigate.

For now I'd just keep an eye on her. I would basically spend half my time paying attention to Iruka's lecture, half taking glances at her like she was a clock during a really droll class. Even in a class full of kids on their first day of ninja school some noticed.

The lunch bell rang and I found myself a corner to read my novel by my lonesome. Gee, didn't I say at one point that I was going to be bold this life? It was easy to say you'd change, but cheap promises did nothing for social anxiety.

I had time though. I could spend time socializing with the main cast when they were older. During the Chuunin exams, all the kids acted like they barely knew each other. Even though they weren't too familiar with each other, they were still good friends. That's probably when having any conversation was relevant. I bemusedly thought that even at low social links, they'd all die for each other.

I wasn't too surprised when Fuki found me. She was the only of the trio to make it into class. Sensing her presence, I looked up to find her awkwardly standing in front of me with her bento behind her back. We weren't the greatest of friends, and she did partake in riffing on me. However, when in a room full of people, you naturally gravitated towards the people you knew. Fuki wasn't particularly charismatic, or outgoing, or even truly judgmental; I'd say she joined the Bratty Bitch Trio for acceptance just as I had.

I patted the ground next to me, gesturing for her to take a seat, which she silently took. I actually didn't mind. Whenever any of the Bratty Bitch Trio would approach me individually, they really wouldn't be that bad. Not even Ami. Their intolerability seemed directly proportional to their proximity to each other or any other preppy kids. I guess they didn't feel they needed to keep up appearances to a quiet dork like me.

Fuki was surprisingly 'mature' for her age. As in she'd taken upon the teenage cynic viewpoint of everything in the world being stupid, except the person she was ranting to of course. It might've had something to do with how she became an orphan, which I'd never asked. She'd tell me if she felt like it.

"Why do you like books with so much blood and fighting?" Fuki questioned with a bit of disgust, looking at the cover of my novel.

Ninjato Five-O: The Bloodgeoning featured the eponymous Ninjato, a ninja cop who, whilst missing all his limbs, was using a special combination of water, medical, and summoning ninjutsu to use the blood from his arm stumps as weapons and the blood from his leg stumps as dragons. His motivation was to get revenge on the rival ninja clan that had taken his limbs and his gold fish's fins. On the cover Ninjato was using the blood spurts as jets Gamera-style, spinning towards the book's main antagonist: Death Face. The caption of the book was "THEY TOOK EVERYTHING FROM HIM, EXCEPT HIS BLOOD!" Why would you _not_ want to read it?

"Should I not?" I wasn't a particular fan of gore, but the plot and fight scenes in Ninjato were quite creative, to say the least.

"Girls aren't supposed to like that kind of stuff."

"They're fun. Why does it matter?"

"People will think you're _weird._ Don't you care?" The way Fuki had phrased it made it sound like the very notion was a death sentence.

"Not my problem." I shrugged. "I like it, and I don't really care what they think. It's not a big deal." I was basically a young adult when I had died, but I was well out of the age where I'd let the fear of not being validated scare me out of doing things I liked.

"…that's pretty weird and doesn't make much sense. But I kinda like it." Fuki gave me a small smirk, a remarkable thing coming from her.

"Do you have a crush on that Nara boy?" Fuki asked during a lull in our conversation, as we settled on watching the other children play an intense game of Ninja.

Of course five year old boys were at the top of my list. Nothing got me going like kids who didn't even know what puberty was. I was about to laugh in her face, before I realized the truth about who I was eyeing didn't do me any favors.

"Sure." I responded, though I was unsure if my amusement was obvious in my tone, especially to a five year old.

After lunch there was taijutsu class a.k.a. PE with the goal of making badass ninjas by age twelve. I had a better idea of how hardcore the life of a ninja was when 20 laps was something you expected of _five year-olds._ For the entirety of my time in the public education system, with a much more mature yet still youthful body, running a _mile_ had left me a miserable panting mess.

My sense of wonder and hope of being a powerful ninja were being trampled on by the many children that effortlessly passed me. My frustration flared whenever I'd see kids having casual conversation whilst I desperately struggled to fill my lungs with air. The only consolation was that with my training I still kept at every night made it so at full sprint I was… average. Was everyone training for this day?

During the 10th lap I was suspecting foul play. I knew for a fact that some kids hadn't trained as much as I had, Fuki was doing fine, not having to cough up her lungs to get where she was. Shikamaru probably only did training that involved sitting around doing nothing, and he was doing _a lot_ better than I could with the same amount of effort, lightly jogging only when Iruka was glaring at him.

There had to be some sort of trick. Maybe since I didn't hear about this trick before I began running, it might just be something that was assumed you knew about. No kids this age in my world could move like these kids could, what was the difference?

Chakra. You huge idiot, if you are _ever_ confused about how something works in this world, the answer is probably chakra.

I may not have had chakra, but I had something else. It was my motivation for training every night. The burning desire to not be worthless. To be someone I could be proud of!

Looking back on my past life, I was an utter failure. I grit my teeth. I could've potentially been great, someone who was talented and meaningful to a lot of people. But I wasn't. I left nothing in the world I left. I was nothing to my family; I was nothing to my friends.

When I was a kid, I was clever. I did well in school. I _realized_ that I was young, and that young minds and bodies were able to quickly adapt, grow, and learn. I knew that if I wanted to, applied myself, I could be spectacular. I was content on doing nothing but indulging myself however, thinking the gifts of my youth would never go away. Then I got older.

I dropped out my first year of college, procrastinating and eventually giving up entirely when things got difficult. I was in a major I didn't care for to please my parents, because by the time I was old enough to choose, I realized I was too talentless to pursue my dreams. I wasted away all my potential, in a grand delusion that ignoring my problems or shortcomings would be fine.

I ignored the fact that time would move on regardless, content on being a big fish in a small pool. I was a self-centered and short-sighted child. The world kept turning, and all I was left with were the responsibilities of life that I couldn't own up to. I couldn't take it, and then I…

I wiped away at my eyes with the back of my arm. I wouldn't let the mistake that was my last life happen again. For some reason, I was given a second chance as Rin Kazama. And she was going to be a name to remember.

I noticed in my reminiscing, I'd fallen quite behind. Well, if I couldn't make chakra, I'd make what I could.

I flooded my body with the Not Chakra. Running was like hitting the ground with your feet, and if the Not Chakra was good at anything, it was hitting things.

As I took my first step, the ground cracked beneath my foot. Soon the world became a blur, as I rocketed past the other children. I'd vaguely noticed their surprised expressions, and I'd vaguely notice the large amount of dust I was leaving in my wake. Huh. How rude and cliché of me. I'd find myself placing my hand on the ground during turns, using it as an anchor to adjust myself. That barely slowed me down.

I could feel the wild grin on my face as I finished my 20th lap. As I let go of the Not Chakra, I felt my limbs resume screaming in agony like they were before I had used it. I plopped myself in the sidelines in a heap, feeling pretty drained. I dully looked over the field.

I'd left my foot marks and debris all over the track. I'm assuming that wasn't the norm, with the shocked expressions on my class mates and Iruka. Was it because I ripped up the track? I guess that was vandalizing, destruction of property. Sure it'd probably be easily fixed with some sort of earth creating jutsu, but breaking people's stuff was still breaking people's stuff. Plus, what if all that flying debris had hit other students? My idiocy was so apparent in hindsight. I probably could've run in a way that wasn't so excessive and even run faster if I had.

I sighed, and forced myself to get up. I shuffled over to Iruka to apologize.

"Sorry 'bout that Sensei. I messed up the track."

"T-that's true." He stuttered a bit there. Stupid track destruction must be a first. I hung my head low.

I felt a hand get placed on my shoulder. "Don't be too worried about that for now. Next time though, don't go all out like that. That was pretty impressive, but this isn't a race. It's training to build up your stamina. You'd be in bad situation if on a mission you exhausted yourself simply arriving at your objective."

"I… I did well?"

"In terms of speed? Definitely. You were going pretty fast, to finish first from so far behind."

My head shot up. Iruka was giving me a kind smile. I gave it my all in something I desperately wanted to be good at, and I had _done well_. When I felt the tears trickle down my face, I was about to chastise myself for being such a crybaby before I realized it was because I was happy. There was nothing wrong with that.

After the laps came stretching, sit ups, and press ups. Which is weird, they usually were the warm ups in my old PE classes. Ah whatever, probably some weird ninja reasoning behind it. There was an obstacle course, poles, games of catch. I noticed I was completely drained from the incident at the track, as I was basically falling over myself at each activity. There had been a mild reverence from the other kids before we started the other activities, but that quickly faded when they realized how useless I was afterwards.

It was good timing that that was the last class of the day. I was ready to take a nice long nap. As I was leaving to go to my dorm, I was surprised to find Shikamaru coming to speak with me.

"I don't really know you well, but sorry. Going out with girls is troublesome."

My confusion slightly overpowered my amusement at the sight of Shikamaru letting me down easy. What in the world was he talking about? Why did Shikamaru think I liked him? I didn't even talk about Shikamaru today. Maybe I did to Fuki- oh god damn it.

Fuki's resting face seemed to be a perpetual sour scowl; you'd really think of her as more the serious type. I really shouldn't have underestimated her gossip spreading skills.

Remembering I had said that to lie about who I was really taking ganders at, I noticed Shikamaru had the person in question hiding behind him. Aw, that was pretty cute. I raised my hand to give her a little wave, before I quickly shot it back down. I was still in the middle of talking with Shikamaru. That was pretty rude and awkward of me.

"That's a shame. I didn't expect you to become an old flame so quickly. Oh, how you've crushed my maiden heart…" I added as much ham to that delivery as I could, with the back of my hand on my forehead and other hand over my heart for emphasis.

Shikako seemed to get somewhat of a kick out of it. I noticed Chouji was there as well, and he was awkwardly kicking at the floor as if I was genuine and it was uncomfortable to be around.

"You're taking this better than I thought you would. Seems like you crushing on me _was_ just a rumor." He seemed relieved. Less troubles for him I suppose.

"Yup. Dreadful things, rumors. Make for pretty amusing sights when people try to confirm them. Like this terrible first impression, for example. I'm Rin Kazama. Nice to meet you all."

"I'm Shikamaru Nara. This is my sister Shikako, and that's Chouji." He introduced, lazily gesturing to both of them. They both gave shy greetings. I tried to smile in a non-weird way (never really practiced smiling before) and waved.

Shikako then spoke to me. "You were fast in taijutsu class today."

Haha, what? That? I mean, yeah I did well but.. ehehe. I awkwardly began to scratch the back of my head.

"I was fast during the laps, yeah. Pretty useless though. Didn't you see how worn out I was afterwards? I've basically earned the title of 'Quickest to turn to pudding'."

Shikako giggled at my joke. Alright, I was 100% cool with anyone who found me funny. Maybe I'd be fine if she was unusual. She seems like she could be a good friend. I suppose I'm shallow because that's all that mattered to me.

* * *

"Chakra is bullshit!" I shouted in English as I kicked a rock into the stratosphere. Japanese was a beautiful language, but I wanted to sound as ugly as possible.

"Hand signs are bullshit, building up chakra is bullshit, chakra control is bullshit, and you…!" I pointed at a lone squirrel in the trees. He paused in the middle of letting loose on his acorn.

"I don't know you, but you're part this chakra circulatory system of bullshit, so GET OUT OF HERE!"

The squirrel ran off to eat somewhere with a lesser volume of loud jackasses. I had lost count at how many times I'd failed the transformation jutsu. Glowy hands, dog, boar, ram, nothing! The only thing that was happening was that I was gesturing faster. Great! I was great at three shadow puppets! They were pretty shitty shadow puppets too, NONE of those hand seals looked like the animals they were named!

I sighed, letting the tension and frustration flow out of me as my logic and morals slipped back into place. I mentally chastised myself for the outburst. It's not a _good_ idea for those to slip, not even remotely, but I'd been bottling those sentiments up for a while now.

An entire day single-mindedly doing those three hand seals, even the other nine basic ones in an attempt to see if I was doing the wrongs ones, and nothing happened regardless of how perfectly, quickly, or slowly I did them. By now shouldn't I have blown myself up with some odd and catastrophic combination of seals? That would've been satisfying. Something actually happening.

I took a deep breath. After this many failed attempts, it was safe to say that repeating the same thing and expecting different results was the _definition_ of the insane. I had to actually analyze what was going wrong. I thought back to the lectures about chakra.

All living things contained chakra in some fashion, my sensing practice proved that. The purposefully made chakra that ninjas used though was made by balancing one's physical energy, present in every cell of the body, and spiritual energy, gained from exercise and experience. If this energy I was generating wasn't chakra, then did that mean it wasn't a mix of those two energies?

I thought back to the time I'd used the Not Chakra at the track. Sure I'd felt drained afterwards, but that was because I was running that hard. It wasn't draining to summon the Not Chakra. That would eliminate Stamina from the equation.

Time to do simple algebra Rin. If Chakra = Stamina + Spirit, then Chakra – Stamina left…

Spirit? This glow, this power… was just my spirit?

I called my 'spirit' into my left hand. A familiar blue white aura encased it. I then called my spirit into my right hand, this time attempting to add my stamina. After a bout of concentration, blue flames began to burn in my palm.

Why was this happening? There had never _ever_ been someone brought up who could do this, manifest their pure spirit like I was doing now. People could create mountains, summon giant toads, and summon lightning from their fingertips. Someone should have figured something as simple as that by now. No one even manifested stamina as energy by itself, excluding the obvious fact they used it to function. What was different about me?

I was from a different reality for one. I'd been reborn as a baby, with my consciousness intact. In my reality, I'm _positive_ baby's brains were barely big enough to remember how to _function_, let alone an entire lifetime's worth of experience and memories. The only explanation would be that something not physical was used to store my memories.

My soul. My 'spirit' had inhabited this body.

Was it because of my spirit interacting with anatomy from this universe, the result of it interacting with Chakra? Was it because I had an excess of spirit? Was I simply special? Was all that theorizing just garbage and this was just some weird bloodline limit?

I don't think there was a real way for me to find out, that didn't involve heavy testing with ripping souls out. At any rate, I had to come up with a name to this strange spirit power. I couldn't just call it 'Not Chakra'.

I immediately came up with a name.

Chi.

Now, the world and I were going to behold its power.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Alright before anyone frets about Chi being my way of making my OC Insert all powerful and great to make me feel super awesome about myself, while that'd be nice, I actually have a story reason for it. I'll try to clearly define its limits later on.

My end goal for this fic _is_ to tell a story, not just try and do what Silver Queen did with her in-depth exploration of the Naruto setting and characters with Dreaming of Sunshine. I'd just be doing what she's already done but much worse, haha.


End file.
